


On the Sixth Day of Christmas, My True Love Gave to Me

by AFireInTheAttic



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 12 Dates of Christmas AU, Agender Character, Alternate Universe - No Werewolves, BHWOC Secret Santa, Christmas, F/F, F/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 11:03:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2848592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AFireInTheAttic/pseuds/AFireInTheAttic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“It was probably just a dream,” Lydia told herself while brushing her teeth.<br/>While pulling her t-shirt on, she told her reflection, “Magic isn’t real, so—all of this has just been coincidence.”<br/>She looked around her room. “I fell asleep looking at this, so that’s why it looks the same.”<br/>While picking up the blanket in the living room and folding it over the back of her couch, she said, “Kira must have mentioned Allison before, so that’s how I picked her name out.” Never mind that she couldn’t remember her ever mentioning Allison.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On the Sixth Day of Christmas, My True Love Gave to Me

**Author's Note:**

> Malia is agender, and is refered to as they/them throughout. It is implied that Malia is aromantic but it's never explicitly stated. Although Scott and Malia are both involved with Kira, neither of them are involved with each other. 
> 
> I got tired while writing this so there's only six days instead of twelve, but this is roughly inspired by the Hallmark movie "The 12 Dates of Christmas."

**One**

Lydia woke up with a splitting headache. A glance at her clock told her it was nearing 10 a.m. She rolled away from her window and pulled a pillow over her head.

She laid very still for several minutes, mentally making a list of things she needed to do that day. It wasn’t too long—

  1.      Check email to see if Greenburg had sent her anything about his final project.
  2.      Start making her lesson plans
  3.      Meet Kira for lunch
  4.      Get over her ex-girlfriend, who had murdered like five people and who had just turned herself in.



So nothing too difficult.

After about ten minutes, she rolled over and groped around for the Excedrin and water she kept on her nightstand and took a pill. Her headache would go away in a couple minutes, probably. She grabbed her phone, too, and started going through her email.

Greenburg hadn’t emailed her anything, but there was an email from another student named Jonathan who was complaining about his grade. She was in no mood to coddle him—she remembered that he hadn’t done enough of the work to get even a C. She taught _Algebra_ _II_ , not theoretical mathematics (which, to be fair, is what she’d prefer to be teaching, but she wouldn’t be able to until she had tenure and could teach whatever she wanted. Just three more years, and she’d be set…), and if someone didn’t get the grade they wanted, it was their own fault.

She sent back an email that just read, “I offered extra credit. You didn’t do it. Take the class again if it bothers you that much.”

Dropping her phone onto the bed next to her, she pulled the pillow over her head again.

Unfortunately, she didn’t get much rest, because just five minutes later, her phone rang. “Hello?” she answered, feeling groggy but sounding normal, at least.

“Hey!” It was Kira, sounding far to chipper. But then she probably woke up next to her boyfriend and/or her…Malia. They didn’t have a label, which was apparently comfortable for both of them. “Feeling okay?”

“Well my girlfriend is still a felon,” Lydia said flatly.

There was an awkward pause before she said, “Look at the bright side. Jennifer was more like a vigilante than a regular murderer. I mean, can you really fault her for killing rapists who didn’t get charged?”

“Cool motive,” she yawned. “Still murder.”

“Never said it wasn’t,” she replied, still sounding chipper. “Anyway, I was wondering if you still wanted to go out for lunch, or if I should just bring takeout to your apartment.”

Lydia sat up and looked around her bedroom. It was a mess, and her office down the hall looked much the same. It was a challenge to make math interesting for people who weren’t _already_ interested in math, and so her lessons had to be creative. She couldn’t wait until she had tenure and could just…teach math.

Anyway, her apartment was a mess, and she wasn’t likely to change that. At least the living room just looked like someone had spent time watching Netflix and vegging out on the couch. Kira had seen worse, so…”Yeah, come over,” she said, settling back into her bed. “Bring pizza.”

“Sounds good,” Kira said.

She could hear her hesitating on the other end of the line, and she groaned. “What?”

“Nothing. Just…keep your chin up, okay? It will be okay.”

Groaning, she slid off her bed and walked over to her closet. She wanted comfy clothes if she was going to have this conversation. Her nightgown was nice, but it was no longer cool on her skin. “How will it be okay? I told my mom she’d get to meet my girlfriend, but surprise, she’s going to jail and broke up with me so I wouldn’t pay her bail. How the hell am I supposed to tell my mom I was dating a murderer? Is that supposed to make her trust me? I mean, damn, I only date terrible people!” She tugged her nightgown off a little too roughly and threw it in the corner of the room. “First it was fucking Jackson, and the two of us just spent our entire relationship emotionally abusing each other. Then Aiden the dumbass, who turned out to be into grand larceny, and stole my laptop—which had my thesis on it, by the way! And now Jennifer Blake, who rivals Kissin’ Kate Barlow in terms of fucking—I don’t know, revenge murdering.”

“Maybe they’ll start calling her Kissin’ Jenny Blake,” Kira mused, apparently unimpressed with Lydia’s rant. “Anyway, what about Scott?”

She tugs a loose t-shirt over her head now, still scowling. “Scott was a fluke. And you’re dating, now, anyway.”

“He wasn’t a fluke. You have good taste! You just get distracted sometimes.”

She moaned and fell onto the bed to pull on her favorite pair of jeans. She had no idea why she hadn’t started wearing jeans before college, because they were seriously a gift from the gods. And flats! Nothing beat them. I mean, sure, she never left the house in them, but still. “Look, can we not talk about this right now? You can bug me about it when you get here. In the meantime, I need to finish a lesson plan.”

“Sure, sure,” Kira replied. “I’ll be there in about 45 minutes.”

“See you later,” she said, and then hung up the phone.

While she waited, she reorganized the papers in her office so she would be able to find what she needed. She figured she wouldn’t actually get much done with lesson planning today, but she might get an idea for where to start tomorrow.

She had a vague, nebulous idea coming into being when there was a knock at her front door.

A look through the peephole revealed Kira and Malia. Kira looked a little embarrassed, but Malia was shamelessly kissing Kira’s neck.

Lydia opened the door, eyebrows raised. “Malia, it’s nice to see you.”

They leaned back but wrapped arms around Kira. “Good to see you, too, Lydia.”

“I hope you don’t mind them tagging along,” Kira sighed, patting their arm. “They wouldn’t let me go this morning.”

“Sometimes I get cuddly,” they said flatly.

She snorted and let the two of them in. “It’s fine. Did you bring me food?”

Kira glanced down at the pizza boxes in her arms. “Um, yes?” she said slowly.

“I brought you a present,” Malia said proudly, and shoved it into Lydia’s hands. “Open it now.”

She took it, raising her eyebrows at them. “Thanks, Malia.”

They beamed at her.

Kira rolled her eyes. “They wouldn’t let me wrap it or even know that it was, but they insisted you needed it after hearing our conversation this morning.”

“You eavesdropped?” she wondered, starting to open the present.

They shuffled their feet. “Not too much.”

She pulled out a necklace with a little hourglass charm. It was pretty, and small enough that it wasn’t obnoxious. “Thanks, Malia,” she said, and put it on right away.

“It will help you,” they said, reaching out and picking it out of her hands. “But I wouldn’t put it on just yet.”

“What?”

“Trust me,” Malia said firmly. “Wear it tonight.”

She shrugged and took of the necklace. “What’s tonight?” Lydia glanced between the two of them.

Kira started to look guilty, and studiously avoided Lydia’s gaze.

Her eyes narrowed. “What did you do?”

“She set up a date for you!” Malia said cheerfully.

“What?!” Lydia screeched.

Kira backed up, holding the pizza up almost as a shield.

She snatched the pizza boxes out of her hands and stomped away to set them on the coffee table. She rounded on the other girl immediately. “What were you thinking?”

“That you needed a girl to bring home to your mom,” Malia supplied helpfully. They edged around the two girls and opened the first box of pizza. “Mm, pepperoni.”

It was a fair guess. She did want to bring someone home to her mom, and ideally, a girl would be the best move, since she already said she’d be bringing home a girlfriend. This way, Mom would never have to know her ex was a murderer. She continued to glare at Kira. “Fine. But I’m not going to be happy about it. Who is she?”

She brightened considerably and went to sit next to Malia. “Her name is Allison. We have a yoga class together at the gym and sometimes we go out for lunch after we finish up. She’s really cool and she told me the other day that she doesn’t have anywhere to go for Christmas because her mom died last year and her dad is in Europe, or something? They don’t talk anymore, apparently.” Kira blushed, apparently realizing she was saying too much. “Anyway, um, she’s an Olympic athlete. She placed third in one of the archery events. I don’t really get any of that stuff, but she’s _really_ good. Now she’s an archery coach for rich kids whose parents pay her too much, apparently.”

As promising as all of that sounded…Lydia had a thing for athletes, and Allison sounded different enough from Jennifer that it might not be too much of an issue. “I still need to vet her before taking her to mom’s house.”

“Of course,” Kira said, and then pulled out her phone. “I got you reservations at the Indian place on Third Street tonight at five. I know that’s really early, but tomorrow is Christmas Eve, and all, so the options were limited.”

“Fine,” Lydia said, and stress ate four pieces of pizza.

Lydia dressed as well as she normally did—a pretty emerald green cocktail dress with just three-inch heels, since she wasn’t sure how tall Allison was and she preferred to be the short one in her relationships. She could have gone smaller, but she felt weird being less than 5’5” in public.

She approached the host and explained, “I’m meeting someone here. I think the reservation is under Yukimura?”

The host checked through his book and nodded. “Right this way,” he said, and took her to the quieter side of the restaurant. The lighting was dim and warm. She idly picked through the menu while she waited. She was trying to figure out if she wanted to eat something that would keep her from kissing Allison or not.

“Lydia?” a gentle voice asked.

She looked up and immediately decided she better order something that would give her _awful_ breath, because there was _no way_ she was going to kiss someone who looked so much like Jennifer. “Hi,” she squeaked, and tried not to catalog the similarities. It was no use though—they had the same porcelain skin and gentle waves in their brown hair, and— _ugh_ —dimples to go along with sweet smiles. Lydia sort of wanted to die. “You’re Allison?”

She nodded and slid into the chair across from her. “Sorry I’m late. One of my bosses was late to pay me and I wanted to look nice so…” She shrugged and smiled again.

Lydia felt herself beginning to scream internally. She was not ready for this. She wasn’t.

But she was Lydia Martin, and Lydia Martin did not back down from challenges. “Okay, um. Hi.” She started playing with the necklace Malia had given her. It was actually pretty comforting. “It’s really nice to meet you.” It was not. It was terrifying.

Allison’s smile got a little awkward, but she nodded. “Nice to meet you, too.” There’s awkward silence for a minute, until Allison blurts, “So, um, Kira said you’re a professor? What do you teach?”

“Math,” Lydia said, settling for a second. She could talk about math.

“Wow,” she said, nodding uncomfortably. “I hated math.”

“You and all of my students,” she answered, chuckling a little. “I mean, there’s a couple who are really into it, but most of them are just getting their requirements out of the way.”

“Yeah, that would have been me. I took the most basic math I could in college.”

“To be fair, algebra is the most enjoyable,” she admitted. She loved theoretical things, but for the layman—algebra was obviously the best. It was why she had felt no sympathy for Jonathan.

Allison shrugged. “Not really.” She looked at the menu awkwardly. “Have you eaten here before? I’m not really into Indian food.”

She nearly felt offended. Indian food was her favorite to eat. Plus Jennifer had been _the same_. “Try the yellow curry,” she said flatly.

She flinched at the tone. “Um. Ok,” she said slowly.

Lydia scolded herself mentally. There was no need to take her own issues out on Allison. “Sorry. I just—I just got out of a relationship and I’m probably not ready for this.”

“Kira mentioned that,” she agreed, looking increasingly awkward. “I—uh—haven’t dated anyone since my mom died, so I understand.”

“At least your mom didn’t turn out to be a murderer,” she said, feeling suddenly frustrated. She didn’t ask for sympathy. What was she even doing here? There was no way someone like Allison, who looked so much like Jennifer, could ever be right for her.

Allison flinched, but then got suddenly angry. “Who told you that?” she demanded. “Did Kira—“

“Told me _what_?”

“About my mom!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she snapped, getting more upset. “Kira just told me your mom was dead.”

“She didn’t tell you about what Mom and Dad do—did?” She shook her head a little.

“Of course not,” she said angrily. She stood up. “I don’t think this was a good idea.” She pulled out her phone and started to walk away. “It was nice meeting you, or whatever, but I don’t want to deal with this.”

“Fine!” she called after her.

Hands down the worst date she’d ever been on.

She went home and ate a pint of ice cream while watching Criminal Minds, and fell asleep on the couch.

* * *

 

**Two**

Lydia woke up with a splitting headache. A glance at her clock told her it was nearing 10 a.m. She rolled away from her window and pulled a pillow over her head.

From her position under the dark pillow, she wondered how she’d ended up in bed. She didn’t remember moving from the couch to her bedroom, but maybe she had and had just forgotten.

After several minutes, she took her Excedrin and pulled up her email on her phone. She still didn’t have an email from Greenburg, but it looked like Jonathon had emailed her to complain some more. In fact, his email looked _exactly_ the same as the one she’d received yesterday. “Maybe I accidentally marked it as unread,” she mumbled, and checked the date. It said it had been sent “today.” Well, if Jonathon was going to send her the same message, she’d send _him_ the same message. She went to her sent mail to copy and paste her own, but couldn’t find it.

“Weird,” she muttered, but typed up a brief message that essentially read, “screw you and your terrible work ethic.”

She sat up, stretching and yawning. She noticed she was wearing a nightgown again—the same from yesterday. That was _weird_ , since she didn’t usually repeat wears, and again…she couldn’t remember changing into it last night.

Her phone rang before she could think about it any more.

“Hello?” she answered.

“Hey!” Kira chirped. “Feeling okay?”

“Well, my date went _terrible_ last night. Why did you think I’d like her?”

“You had a date and you didn’t tell me?” Kira demanded. “With who? What was she like?”

Lydia pulled the phone away from her ear and squinted at it. “Am I being punked?” she wondered, before putting it back to her ear. “Uh, Kira, you set it up.”

There was silence on the other end of the line. “No, I didn’t.”

What the hell? “Are you trying to get out of taking credit for how terribly it went?”

“No, I really don’t know what you’re talking about. Unless you mean the date I set up for you tonight. It’s this really great girl, Allison—totally different than Jennifer, by the way, or any of the other people you’ve dated. Not that you have bad taste or anything, but—“

“I’ve dated an abuser, a thief, and a murderer,” Lydia listed, boredly. “I know.”

“She’s more like Scott, but also won’t take any shit.”

That was doubtful, but Lydia decided to let it go. “I’m not going out with Allison ag—“ She froze suddenly, looking at her bedroom. It looked _exactly_ how it had looked the day before. “Hold on,” she said, and then ran out of the room and into her office. All of her organization from the day before was like it just _hadn’t happened_. “What’s today?”

“December 24,” Kira answered promptly.

She couldn’t stop herself. “What the fuck?”

“I know, time this year just goes by so fast! Anyway, I was wondering if you still wanted to go out for lunch, or if I should just bring takeout to your apartment.”

Lydia felt herself slipping into a panic. She fell to her knees and pressed her forehead onto the seat of the chair in her office. “Shit. Shit _shit_ shit.”

“Are you okay?”

She let out a hysterical laugh. “Fine! Totally fine.”

“Do you want me to come over?”

She shrugged and settled back onto her hands. “Yeah, come over,” she said. And why break pattern? “Bring pizza.”

“Sounds good,” Kira said.

“See you later,” Lydia said, because after this they had a heart to heart about who she had dated in the past, and she wasn’t interested in rehashing that. She hung up, and just to be sure, checked the date on her phone. December 24.

She stood up and left her office to go to the bathroom, deciding she would make herself pretty and _then_ figure everything out. “It was probably just a dream,” she told herself while brushing her teeth.

While pulling her t-shirt on, she told her reflection, “Magic isn’t real, so—all of this has just been coincidence.”

She looked around her room. “I fell asleep looking at this, so that’s why it looks the same.”

While picking up the blanket in the living room and folding it over the back of her couch, she said, “Kira must have mentioned Allison before, so that’s how I picked her name out.” Never mind that she couldn’t remember her ever mentioning Allison.

“This is not happening,” she told herself firmly, and then there was a knock on the door.

She peered through the peephole and saw Kira and Malia. Kira looked a little embarrassed, but Malia was shamelessly kissing Kira’s neck.

“No!” she hissed, and smacked her forehead on the door.

“Lydia?” Kira called. “Are you okay?”

She pulled herself together and opened the door. “Malia, it’s nice to see you.”

Just like the dream, they leaned back but wrapped arms around Kira. “Good to see you, too, Lydia.”

“I hope you don’t mind them tagging along,” Kira sighed, patting their arm, _just like the dream_. “They wouldn’t let me go this morning.”

“Sometimes I get cuddly,” they said flatly.

Lydia was frozen staring at the two of them. How was this possible? “I need to—“ She started to pace, feeling panic build. This couldn’t be happening. “I have to—“

She ran out of the room and back into her bedroom. She stared herself down in the mirror, worried about her own state. She _looked_ like she was going through the same day twice. “Why?” she mumbled, and then noticed the necklace Malia had given her was hanging from the corner of her mirror. “You!” she hissed at it. That couldn’t be there because she had _dreamed_ that necklace. Right?  
She grabbed it and ran back into the living room. “Malia, where did you get this necklace?”

“What?” Malia asked, blinking at Lydia in confusion. They were already eating a slice of pizza while Kira played with their hair. “I’ve never seen that necklace.”

“Then where did it come from?” she asked hysterically.

“It’s _your_ apartment,” they said, looking confused.

Damn it. She sat on the couch, rubbing her face and running her fingers through her hair. She needed to pull herself together. What she was thinking wasn’t only improbable, it was _impossible_. She took in a deep breath, held it for seven, and then released it for eight. The necklace had probably come from someone else, and she’d just forgotten it until she’d seen it hanging on her mirror yesterday. That’s why she’d dreamed of it. “Okay,” she said, smiling at Kira calmly. “Tell me about the date.”

* * *

 

Against her better judgement, she went to the restaurant at five. She dressed exactly as she had in her _dream_ —necklace and all.

She arrived a couple minutes later than she had the previous night, figuring that she could do something different than the dream if she wanted to.

Allison still wasn’t there yet, but this time, she went ahead and ordered a coke to sip on while she was waiting. Tonight, she was _definitely_ ordering her favorite tikka masala, regardless of whether she decided she would want to kiss Allison or not. Presumably the date would go better than it had in the dream.

“Lydia?” a gentle voice asked.

Her heart sunk. It was _just_ like the dream.

She looked up and immediately felt like crying. Allison looked just like she had imagined her. “Hi,” she squeaked. Lydia sort of wanted to die. “You’re Allison?”

She nodded and slid into the chair across from her. “Sorry I’m late. One of my bosses was late to pay me and I wanted to look nice so…” She shrugged and smiled again.

Lydia felt herself beginning to scream internally. This could not be happening right now.

But she was Lydia Martin, and Lydia Martin did not back down from challenges. “Okay, um. Hi.” She started playing with the necklace. “It’s really nice to meet you.” It was not. This was nightmarish.

Allison’s smile got a little awkward, but she nodded. “Nice to meet you, too.”

In the _dream_ , it had been awkward when she had talked about math, as much as she was loathe to admit it. So she decided to jump in with her own question. “So you’re an archer?”

“Since I was a kid,” Allison said, relaxing a little. “My dad taught me when I was really young, but my aunt was the one who was really good at it. She helped me with a lot of it.”

“That’s nice,” she said, leaning forward. Maybe this date would go better? She was almost used to the similarities between Allison and Jennifer. And in personality they did seem different… “Kira mentioned your dad was in Europe. Can you just not afford to go see him?”

“I could afford it,” she replied with a frown. “But I don’t want to see him.”

“I can relate,” she said, shrugging. “My dad sucks, too. I always felt like I was just something for my parents to compete over. I wouldn’t even go home to see my mom if it weren’t for tradition.” She shrugs. “Plus she gives good gifts.”

Allison looked distressed at this. “You should be more grateful for your mom. You never know when you won’t have her any more.”

Awkward. “Right. Sorry.”

She grimaces. “It’s fine.” In an obvious move to change the subject, she starts picking through her menu. “Have you eaten here before? I’m not really into Indian food.”

She’d forgotten about _that_. “Try the yellow curry,” she suggested again. She realized that her tone was annoyed, still, and wondered what was wrong with her. It wasn’t like she hadn’t dated people with different preferences _before_. But here she was, picking on Allison for food choices. She felt like she should apologize again, but maybe she could do it without mentioning Jennifer this time. “Sorry. You know, we could…go somewhere else, if you wanted?”

“No, I mean, if you like this place—I want at least one of us to be comfortable.”

“Are you uncomfortable?” Of course she was. They could barely relate to each other and it was humiliating. Lydia was supposed to be _good_ at this, and instead, she felt completely lost. “Maybe this was a bad idea,” she sighed.

“Maybe it was,” Allison said.

They make small talk for the rest of the meal, mostly about the food, and then leave the restaurant without looking back at each other.

So she hadn’t dreamed it _exactly_ the way it had happened. Close enough, though.

* * *

 

**Three**

Lydia woke up with a splitting headache. A glance at her clock told her it was nearing 10 a.m. She rolled away from her window and pulled a pillow over her head.

Then she jerked awake and pulled out her phone. She just had to make sure it was December 25 instead of December 24.

It wasn’t.

“FUCK!” she shouted, and threw her phone onto the floor. She flopped onto her back to stare at the ceiling. “This is real,” she said morosely.

After a couple minutes, Kira called her.

“Hello?” she answered.

“Hey!” Kira chirped. “Feeling okay?”

“No, I feel sick,” she said. She coughed for effect. “I think we should skip having lunch today.”  
“Oh, but—I—look, I set up a date for you tonight. I’ll text you the details, and her number, so you can cancel on her if you still feel sick. Do you need me to bring you soup or anything?”

“No, I’m fine,” she said. “I’ll talk to you later.”

Frankly, she couldn’t handle anything just then, so she turned her phone off, walked into the living room and watched nine hours of Criminal Minds. She didn’t realize she’d stood Allison up until about the 10th episode, but she didn’t care. It would just happen again tomorrow, too, wouldn’t it?

* * *

 

**Four**

Lydia woke up with a splitting headache. A glance at her clock told her it was nearing 10 a.m. She rolled away from her window and pulled a pillow over her head.

She can’t muster up the hope to check the date on her phone until it starts to ring.

“Hello?” she answered.

“Hey!” Kira chirped. “Feeling okay?”

She considered it. “Depends. What’s today?”

“December 24,” she supplied helpfully.

As far as she could tell, she was destined to repeat this day over and over until it went right—kind of like that movie _Groundhog Day_. So…maybe she should go back to the start and figure out what had went wrong. She’d tried not complaining about her past relationships and that hadn’t done much. She’d tried being enthusiastic about the date. Maybe she should meet Kira for lunch today instead of having her in her apartment?

“I’m fine,” she said slowly. She found it was almost becoming true, too. She was still upset about Jennifer but she’d hardly had time to think about her since this whole thing had started. “Do you want to meet at that coffee shop you and Scott like for lunch?”

“Sure,” Kira said. “Do you mind if Malia tags along?”

“No, that’s fine,” she agreed.

“Good,” she laughed. “I’m not sure I could get away from them right now.”

This would make four days in a row, in a manner of speaking, that Lydia had seen the two of them together, which is weird, since Malia wasn’t into the whole _romance_ thing, usually just preferring to screw Kira’s brains out, spoon her to sleep, and then leave her before she wakes. Scott was the one who cooked Kira breakfast and cuddled with her. Scott was the one who liked dating and buying presents. That was always how their relationship had functioned. Scott was the boyfriend and Malia, for lack of a better term, was the queerplatonic partner. Malia did what Malia liked, and apparently, that meant cuddling on December 24.

“See you later,” she said, and hung up.

* * *

 

At lunch, Kira tells her about the date, and Lydia pretends to be interested. She tries to muster enthusiasm, but can’t quit thinking about how disastrously the last two dates had ended.

Kira notices how distracted she is, of course, because Kira takes care of people. “Are you okay, though? I know it can’t be easy, what with Jennifer.”

“It sucks,” she says honestly. She misses Jennifer. It was nice to date someone who was older and had similar interests—albeit Jennifer taught English, not math. Still, they’d commiserated about how frustrating students were and how difficult it was to find good people to date. They’d actually have a pretty good time talking about it _now_ , to be honest.

At the same time, she was kind of glad she wasn’t dating a murderer any more.

“Well, maybe it’s a good thing. You can start the new year taking care of you,” Kira suggested, smiling at her hopefully. “Jennifer wasn’t encouraging you to try new things.”

Kira was always on about that sort of thing. She wanted Lydia to try yoga or pilates or kickboxing—anything, really. Lydia didn’t really mind, but she also wasn’t interested in doing any of it.

Still, the idea was nice. “That’s true,” she said. She took a bite of her sandwich and sighed. “But you’re the one trying to set me up on a date. Can’t you let me mope in peace?”

“Not really her thing,” Malia said, snickering.

Well, that was true.

* * *

Tonight would be different. She’d fix today.

“Lydia?” a gentle voice asked.

Nope, she probably wouldn’t. There was something so sweet in Allison, for sure, but it was also fragile, and Lydia wasn’t good at being nice.

She’d do her best, though.

“Hi,” she said, standing and offering the tall brunette a hand. They hadn’t stood next to each other before, but now that they were, she was delighted to see that Allison was a lot taller than her. Maybe she _would_ salvage this. “You must be Allison.”

Allison took her hand with a smile and they shook briefly. “It’s nice to meet you. Kira talks about you a lot.”

“Honestly she’s never mentioned you before she set this up, but she speaks very highly of you,” she replied.

She laughed awkwardly. “Right.”

Lydia took in Allison’s dress—it was burgundy, with an empress Greek cut, and fell just past her knees. “You look great,” she said, gesturing to the dress. It suited her so well, as did the way her hair fell around her shoulders. “Should we sit?”

“Thanks,” she said, and slid into her seat. She immediately picks up the menu. “Sorry I’m late. One of my bosses was late to pay me and I wanted to look nice so…”

“Well you do,” she said promptly, smiling at her easily. She just needed to stay casual. “So, um, Kira tells me you teach kids archery. Are they as difficult to teach as my students are?”

That made Allison laugh. “I don’t think so. They’re sweet. Brats, but pretty good at doing things they want to. Of course, none of them will ever be as good as me—they don’t have the drive.”

“Now, that I get,” she says, leaning forward. She’s trying to be as open as possible. If she can just get this to go right, maybe she’ll wake up on Christmas. “I feel the same about my students. I just teach the basic math requirements right now, but I actually did my PhD work in theoretical math—mostly in set theory.”

“That really means nothing to me,” she admits. “Except congratulations on your doctorate!”

It’s exactly the kind of thing Jennifer would have said, which is awkward. But Allison wouldn’t know that. She can’t take it out on her.

Instead, she smiles at her. Stay warm, she orders herself. “Thank you,” she says politely.

“Sure,” she says, and looks down at her menu. “I know it’s early, but I’m starving. Have you eaten here before? I’m not really into Indian food.”

“Yellow curry is good for first timers,” she said, shrugging. “It’s pretty mild.”

The date progresses as such. Allison actually seems pretty nice, but there are so many awkward moments where Lydia is still upset by how similar she is to Jennifer. If these past four days have taught her anything, it’s that she desperately needs closure.

They parted amicably, but without feeling like the evening was a success.

* * *

**Five**

Lydia woke up with a splitting headache. A glance at her clock told her it was nearing 10 a.m. She rolled away from her window and pulled a pillow over her head.

As awareness returns to her, she rolls over to take her headache pill and to look at the date on her phone. She’s not even surprised to see that it’s still December 24, though she’d hoped that the date going better would make the date change. No such luck, apparently.

With a sigh, she headed to her office and cleared off her desk. She’d spend the afternoon researching to see if anyone else had experienced this.

For the most part, she didn’t find much beyond the plot of Groundhog Day—a connection she’d already made. She bit her lip and switched away from Google Scholar. This kind of thing probably wouldn’t be there, anyway. Would there be peer-reviewed articles about magic? She somehow doubted it was the stuff she needed.

In any case, all of that was theoretical. No, she needed to look through _blogs_.

She’d found a pretty good post when her phone rang, but she was so engrossed she hardly paid attention to the conversation she was having with Kira. She did remember enough to ask for McDonalds for lunch when she came over.

When Kira did show up, today _without_ Malia (apparently, they couldn’t stand McDonalds and had ditched) she just put down the sack of food and pretended to have a conversation with her.

For her part, Lydia did her best to keep up with Kira, but she was way more interested in what she was reading. The person in the post was talking about destroying magical objects—Lydia had already conjectured that the necklace was causing all this—but not at the wrong time, or you’d be caught in an infinite loop. Theoretically. No one could really prove that one.

But it was still dangerous enough that she wasn’t willing to try it.

Kira left at some point, and when she came back, Scott was with her.

“Lydia,” he said, taking the laptop away from her. “You need to rejoin the world of the living.”  
She glared at him. “I am researching—“

“I know,” he said gently, patting her arm. “But if I let you keep doing that, you will never actually go and live your life.”

This was a fair assessment, since she did tend to get caught up in research spirals to the point that she forgot to eat and sleep. Grudgingly, she relaxed.

And living her life, based on what she’d read, was really important for getting out of these spirals. And that clearly meant going on the date with Allison, since skipping the date hadn’t worked. “Oh, shit,” she said. “What time is it?”

“It’s 4:30,” Kira said.  
“Why didn’t you come sooner?” she demanded, running out of the office and into her bedroom. “The date is in 30 minutes and I’m going to be _late_.”

“You remembered?” she asked, running after her.

She stops with her nightgown halfway off. “I do listen to you,” she said, frowning at her. “You’re my best friend.” Never mind that she probably wouldn’t have caught what was going on if she hadn’t lived through this day so many times.

“Aw,” Kira said, grinning and crossing the room to hug her. “You’re my best friend, too.”

“That’s great,” she said. “But I need to go.”

“Scott’s gonna drive you,” Kira said, beaming. “He’ll get you there in time.”

In the end, she looked way less than her best. She’d pulled a dress on but her hair wasn’t right and she’d only had time to put on lipstick. No lip gloss or eyeliner, and she’d only had a moment to shove flats on her feet quickly so she could run to the car.

“I look dreadful.”

“You look beautiful,” Scott told her, patting her knee. “Allison will love you.”

She hadn’t so far, but there was no way to explain that without sounding crazy. Still, his words are somehow reassuring. There’s just something about him. “You’re really great, Scott,” she tells him, sighing. “Kira is lucky to have you.”

“I’m lucky to have her,” he corrects her, smiling.

“That’s what I mean,” she says, and tries to fix her hair again.

* * *

Allison was already at the table when she got there tonight.

“Hi,” she said, hurrying toward her. “I’m so sorry I’m late. I was working all day and totally lost track of time.”

“It’s totally fine,” she said, smiling at her. “You look really cute.”

She ducks her head, almost shy. She doesn’t get called cute a lot—normally “scary” or “beautiful” gets used. It’s just so…nice.

She feels all aflutter.

* * *

 

**Six**

Lydia woke up with a splitting headache. A glance at her clock told her it was nearing 10 a.m. She rolled away from her window and pulled a pillow over her head.

She knew it was probably going to be December 24, and she didn’t feel like looking to confirm it.

She rolled out of bed in that same nightgown with a yawn and didn’t even bother with the Excedrin. She sent a simple “Sucks to be you” message to Jonathon, and put on a simple dress. There wasn’t any point in actually trying to get anything done today, since she would just wake up with nothing done anyway.

She messed with the necklace still hanging on her mirror. She’d worn it to every date out of fear that she’d get caught in a loop if she didn’t, but it’s always hanging on her mirror in the morning. Catching sight of herself, she grinned suddenly. She could do _anything_ and there would be literally no effect. She could plan her lesson and lose all the work…or…

She texted Kira that she was going to the mall to get her hair dyed, and she’d meet her there for lunch.

She’d always wanted Ariel hair.  
-  
It didn’t actually take much to get an appointment at the salon in the mall on Christmas Eve, and so at noon, Lydia reclined in a chair with cherry red dye setting in her hair. She was going to be a princess, damn it. She’d go back to being a professor the next day.

After her hair was rinsed and dried, she tossed it in the mirror just like Ariel had in the movie. “Perfect,” she said, and her stylist laughed.

Kira was waiting outside of Build-a-Bear with big sunglasses on to block out the sunlight from the skylights. She peered over them at Lydia as she approached, and her mouth dropped open. “Your hair,” she whispered, and reached up to touch it. “It’s so magical.”

“Thanks,” she said, spinning so it fanned out for her. “I don’t know if I’ll keep it too long, but it’s fun.” For a brief moment, she worried about what she’d do if she _did_ wake up tomorrow on December 25. It just seemed unlikely.

The two of them began walking. “How are you doing?” Kira asked, concerned.

“Really good, actually,” she admitted. It was strange, but she hadn’t thought about Jennifer in over a day. Even last night at the restaurant, Allison had only briefly reminded her of Jennifer—not enough to even make her blink. Allison was shaping into her own person, in Lydia’s eyes, and a likeable one at that. She just needed to do better at presenting herself well. She liked that Allison thought she was cute, but she needed to be better. Dr. Lydia Martin didn’t do things halfway.

Beaming, she wrapped an arm around her. “I’m so glad! I’ve been worried about you for a while, but it’s just _amazing_ to hear you’re feeling better. And like, on that note, there’s this girl I want you to meet. I hope you don’t mind, but I asked her to join us for lunch!”

Allison, apparently, was inescapable.

“You can’t be serious,” Lydia sighed, but sure enough, she could see Allison standing in line at Chick-fil-a. “Look, she’s eating anti-gay chicken. How am I supposed to date her?”

“Look, even the best of us fall sway to delicious chicken—hey, wait. How did you know who I meant?”

She scrambled for an answer that wouldn’t reveal what was really going on. “Um. What do you mean? You just pointed at her,” she lied.

“No I didn’t.”

“You totally did,” she insisted. If she said it enough times, Kira might start to believe her.

“Okay, weirdo,” she said, eying her oddly. “Whatever you say. Come on!”

In the food court, they split up. Lydia goes to get a slice of pizza and Kira goes to the sushi place. They have an agreement not to tell her dad how often she eats there, because it’s as close to his sushi as she’ll get.

Lydia is way less concerned with anyone seeing her eating pizza. No one will remember it, anyway.

She takes her huge slice of pepperoni pizza to sit down where Kira and Allison were waiting. “Hey,” she said, smiling brightly at the two of them. She wasn’t really sure where she and Allison are going—if they’re going anywhere—or what the ethics of having six (and possibly more) first dates without the knowledge of the other person were, exactly. The best move here seemed to be acting like nothing was weird.

“Lydia, this is Allison,” Kira said, gesturing between the two of them. “Allison, Lydia.”

“Nice to meet you,” Allison said. In the light of day, she was still incredibly pretty, with nice hair. It wasn’t really fair to see how her face was still perfectly clear of acne and…sweet. She smiled up at Lydia and almost knocked her over with her dimples. They’d been painful to look at before, but now they were almost…no, they _were_ beautiful.

Kira knew her taste in women—that much was clear.

Maybe this would work.

They went through conversations Lydia had already had with her, but this time, she tried not to react to things that had bugged her before. So what if Allison didn’t like math? Who cared if Lydia didn’t know anything about archery? It was _good_ that they have separate interests but could still kind of relate by being teachers.

She did briefly tease Allison about buying from Chick-fil-a, which made Allison turn red and made Kira elbow her, hard. “I’m actually not totally out,” Allison admitted. “Mom knew, but Dad would never approve.” Looking away awkwardly, she shrugged. “One of the many reasons I’m not visiting my dad for Christmas this year.”

“It’s okay,” Lydia assured her quickly, actually feeling bad. Straight people were the worst about this kind of thing. “Coming out is always really annoying. Plus there’s the difficulty of explaining pansexuality and that kind of stuff. It took me years to come out to myself, even.”

She relaxed across the table and took another bite of her sandwich. After swallowing, she explained, “I’m bi. Didn’t realize it until that time Kira and I made out.”

“What, seriously?” Lydia gave Kira a thumbs up. “Nice one,” she mouths.

Allison rolled her eyes but laughed. “Seriously.”

If she was being honest with herself, she knew that she was totally smitten with Allison by this point. She definitely wanted to go out with her that night, but—“What’s your favorite kind of food?” she asked. She didn’t think she could eat Indian food for the sixth night in a row, anyway. It was time for a change.

“Mexican,” she said.

“Come with me to Señor Tequila’s for dinner?” Lydia suggested.

“That sounds great,” Allison said, smiling shyly.

So there was only one more thing to take care of.

* * *

Lydia sat down on the uncomfortable stool and picked up the phone. “Hi, Jennifer,” she said.

Across the Plexiglas, her ex-girlfriend smiled at her. “I was wondering if you would come visit.”

She ignored her. “Some weird stuff has happened in my life, but I’ve kind of realized that I’m over you.”

“It’s been like, two weeks,” Jennifer said, nonplussed.

“Feels like longer.”

“Did you really come here to tell me that you’re over me?” she asked, leaning forward. “Because that’s kind of weird, even for you.”

Shrugging, she sighed and then tossed her hair. “I was in love with you, you know? But then I found out you had this totally separate life where you _murdered_ people—“

“Rapists,” she inserted.

“And that really put a damper on our relationship,” she plowed on. “It really sucked for me! I mean, I was ready to introduce you to my mom. Now I have to take this other girl home and pretend I was dating her all along, or my mom is going to assume I just can’t control my life at all. Which is _ridiculous_ because I’m on track for my tenure.” She jabbed a finger at Jennifer through the glass. “You fucked things up.”

She shrugged. “That’s fair.” Then she sighed and leaned forward to press her hand against the glass. “I loved you, too, you know. I mean, you came in here today with your mermaid hair looking every kind of delicious, and I actually regret turning myself in.” She sighed. “But I’m glad you found another girl to take home. Maybe this one won’t be a criminal, huh?”

“Let’s hope not,” she mutters.

“I’m proud of you,” Jennifer said, laughing softly.

Lydia glanced back at the guards before leaning forward with a grin. “I’m proud of you, too.”

“Even though I’m a murderer?”

“You have a really cool motive,” she said, and winked.

* * *

Lydia met Allison at Señor Tequila’s in the same green dress and necklace. She had a good feeling about tonight, which might have meant that she made a mistake with her hair. She did have awful luck—the last five days were a clear indicator of that. But then again, she’d take fire engine hair over being stuck reliving December 24 over and over for the rest of her—what, existence?

On the other hand, Allison had dressed down a little, in a pretty maroon sweater and blue jeans. Her hair was braided up like a milkmaid, and her smile was warmer than it ever had been before. She greeted Lydia with a lingering hug, and the two of them slid into a booth.

She found herself curious about the pretty woman beyond the fact that she was an athlete. “So I know what you do for work, but what do you do in your free time?” she wondered.

“Honestly?” Allison admitted. “I watch The Office on Netflix. I know I’m supposed to say something like bicycling or painting, but as enjoyable as those things are, it takes so much less effort to lay down on the couch and start a TV show.”

Okay, so Kira _really_ knew her taste in women. Allison was _perfect_.

“I do the same thing, so I don’t think I can judge you. Lately I’ve been watching Criminal Minds, though,” she said. She felt herself starting to lean forward and wondered how awkward it would be if she tried to start playing footsie. It wasn’t a game she really understood, but she thought she would be up for it if she was playing with Allison.

“Criminal Minds is way too scary for me,” she admitted. “I tried a couple but serial killers freak me out too much.”

“That is so cute.” It was possibly the cutest thing she’d ever heard. “Is The Office good? I tried a couple episodes but couldn’t get into it.”

“The first season is kind of rough but it really shapes up after that. I highly recommend it.”

“Maybe we could watch it together sometime,” Lydia suggested. Oh man. She was _so_ smooth.

“That sounds really fun,” Allison said.

This was the start of something beautiful.

* * *

 

**Plus One**

Lydia woke up to the sound of a bird chirping outside of her window. A glance at her clock told her it was nearing 11 a.m. She rolled over to grab her phone and grinned when she saw the date. December 25.

The necklace that had been hanging on her mirror was gone.

“Merry Christmas,” she typed out, and sent the text to Kira, Malia, Scott, and the newest addition to her phone book—Allison Argent.

She didn’t remember the color of her hair until she was getting dressed to go pick up Allison before they drove to her mother’s house, and then she groaned. She _had_ to pick the day it all ended to do her hair crazy, didn’t she?

But as Allison slid into her passenger seat and leaned over to kiss her, she didn’t really regret anything at all.

Maybe it was meant to be.

 


End file.
